John, Spiritual Canticle 8
But how thou perseverest, O life!
Not living where thou livest;
The arrows bring death
Which thou receivest
From thy conceptions of the Beloved.
1 THE soul, perceiving itself to be dying of love, as it has justsaid, and yet not dying so as to have the free enjoyment of itslove, complains of the continuance of its bodily life, by whichthe spiritual life is delayed. Here the soul addresses itself tothe life it is living upon earth, magnifying the sorrows of it.The meaning of the stanza therefore is as follows: 'O life of mysoul, how canst thou persevere in this life of the flesh, seeingthat it is thy death and the privation of the true spiritual lifein God, in Whom thou livest in substance, love, and desire, moretruly than in the body? And if this were not reason enough todepart, and free thyself from the body of this death, so as tolive and enjoy the life of God, how canst thou still remain in abody so frail? Besides, these wounds of love made by the Belovedin the revelation of His majesty are by themselves alonesufficient to put an end to thy life, for they are very deep; andthus all thy feelings towards Him, and all thou knowest of Him,are so many touches and wounds of love that kill,
'But how thou perseverest, O life!
Not living where thou livest.'
2. We must keep in mind, for the better understanding of this,that the soul lives there where it loves, rather than in the bodywhich it animates. The soul does not live by the body, but, on thecontrary, gives it life, and lives by love in that which it loves.For beside this life of love which it lives in God Who loves it,the soul has its radical and natural life in God, like all createdthings, according to the saying of St. Paul: 'In Him we live, andmove, and are;' (82) that is, our life, motion, and being is inGod. St. John also says that all that was made was life in God:'That which was made, in Him was life.' (83)
3. When the soul sees that its natural life is in God through thebeing He has given it, and its spiritual life also because of thelove it bears Him, it breaks forth into lamentations, complainingthat so frail a life in a mortal body should have the power tohinder it from the fruition of the true, real, and delicious life,which it lives in God by nature and by love. Earnestly, therefore,does the soul insist upon this: it tells us that it suffersbetween two contradictions--its natural life in the body, and itsspiritual life in God; contrary the one to the other, because oftheir mutual repugnance. The soul living this double life is ofnecessity in great pain; for the painful life hinders thedelicious, so that the natural life is as death, seeing that itdeprives the soul of its spiritual life, wherein is its wholebeing and life by nature, and all its operations and feelings bylove. The soul, therefore, to depict more vividly the hardshipsof this fragile life, says:
'The arrows bring death
which thou receivest.'
4. That is to say: 'Besides, how canst thou continue in thebody, seeing that the touches of love--these are the arrows--withwhich the Beloved pierces thy heart, are alone sufficient todeprive thee of life?' These touches of love make the soul andheart so fruitful of the knowledge and love of God, that they maywell be called conceptions of God, as in the words that follow:
'From thy conceptions of the Beloved.'
5. That is, of the majesty, beauty, wisdom, grace, and power,which thou knowest to be His.
NOTE
AS the hart wounded with a poisoned arrow cannot be easy and atrest, but seeks relief on all sides, plunging into the waters hereand again there, whilst the poison spreads notwithstanding allattempts at relief, till it reaches the heart, and occasionsdeath; so the soul, pierced by the arrow of love, never ceasesfrom seeking to alleviate its pains. Not only does it notsucceed, but its pains increase, let it think, and say, and dowhat it may; and knowing this, and that there is no other remedybut the resignation of itself into the hands of Him Who woundedit, that He may relieve it, and effectually slay it through theviolence of its love; it turns towards the Bridegroom, Who is thecause of all, and says:
Why, after wounding
This heart, hast Thou not healed it?
And why, after stealing it,
Hast Thou thus abandoned it,
And not carried away the stolen prey?
1 HERE the soul returns to the Beloved, still complaining of itspain; for that impatient love which the soul now exhibits admitsof no rest or cessation from pain; so it sets forth its griefs inall manner of ways until it finds relief. The soul seeing itselfwounded and lonely, and as no one can heal it but the Beloved Whohas wounded it, asks why He, having wounded its heart with thatlove which the knowledge of Him brings, does not heal it in thevision of His presence; and why He thus abandons the heart whichHe has stolen through the love Which inflames it, after havingdeprived the soul of all power over it. The soul has now no powerover its heart--for he who loves has none--because it issurrendered to the Beloved, and yet He has not taken it toHimself in the pure and perfect transformation of love in glory.
'Why, after wounding this heart,
hast Thou not healed it?'
2. The enamoured soul is complaining not because it is wounded,for the deeper the wound the greater the joy, but because, beingwounded, it is not healed by being wounded unto death. The woundsof love are so deliciously sweet, that if they do not kill, theycannot satisfy the soul. They are so sweet that it desires to dieof them, and hence it is that it says, 'Why, after wounding thisheart, hast Thou not healed it?' That is, 'Why hast Thou struck itso sharply as to wound it so deeply, and yet not healed it bykilling it utterly with love? As Thou art the cause of its pain inthe affliction of love, be Thou also the cause of its health by adeath from love; so the heart, wounded by the pain of Thy absence,shall be healed in the delight and glory of Thy Sweet presence.'Therefore it goes on:
'And why, after stealing it,
hast Thou thus abandoned it?'
3. Stealing is nothing else but the act of a robber indispossessing the owner of his goods, and possessing them himself.Here the soul complains to the Beloved that He has robbed it ofits heart lovingly, and taken it out of its power and possession,and then abandoned it, without taking it into His own power andpossession as the thief does with the goods he steals, carryingthem away with him. He who is in love is said to have lost hisheart, or to have it stolen by the object of his love; because itis no longer in his own possession, but in the power of the objectof his love, and so his heart is not his own, but the property ofthe person he loves.
4. This consideration will enable the soul to determine whether itloves God simply or not. If it loves Him it will have no heart foritself, nor for its own pleasure or profit, but for the honour,glory, and pleasure of God; because the more the heart is occupiedwith self, the less is it occupied with God. Whether God hasreally stolen the heart, the soul may ascertain by either of thesetwo signs: Is it anxiously seeking after God? and has it nopleasure in anything but in Him, as the soul here says? The reasonof this is that the heart cannot rest in peace without thepossession of something; and when its affections are once placed,it has neither the possession of itself nor of anything else;neither does it perfectly possess what it loves. In this state itsweariness is in proportion to its loss, until it shall enter intopossession and be satisfied; for until then the soul is as anempty vessel waiting to be filled, as a hungry man eager for food,as a sick man sighing for health, and as a man suspended in theair.
'And not carried away the stolen prey?'
5. 'Why dost Thou not carry away the heart which Thy love hasstolen, to fill it, to heal it, and to satiate it giving itperfect rest in Thyself?'
6. The loving soul, for the sake of greater conformity with theBeloved, cannot cease to desire the recompense and reward of itslove for the sake of which it serves the Beloved, otherwise itcould not be true love, for the recompense of love is nothingelse, and the soul seeks nothing else, but greater love, until itreaches the perfection of love; for the sole reward of love islove, as we learn from the prophet Job, who, speaking of his owndistress, which is that of the soul now referred to, says: 'As aservant longeth for the shade, as the hireling looketh for the endof his work; so I also have had empty months, and have numbered tomyself wearisome nights. If I sleep, I say, When shall I arise?and again, I shall look for the evening, and shall be filled withsorrows even till darkness.' (84)
7. Thus, then, the soul on fire with the love of God longs for theperfection and consummation of its love, that it may be completelyrefreshed. As the servant wearied by the heat of the day longs forthe cooling shade, and as the hireling looks for the end of hiswork, so the soul for the end of its own. Observe, Job does notsay that the hireling looks for the end of his labour, but onlyfor the end of his work. He teaches us that the soul which loveslooks not for the end of its labour, but for the end of its work;because its work is to love, and it is the end of this work, whichis love, that it hopes for, namely, the perfect love of God. Untilit attains to this, the words of Job will be always true of it--its months will be empty, and its nights wearisome and tedious.It is clear, then, that the soul which loves God seeks and looksfor no other reward of its services than to love God perfectly.
NOTE
THE soul, having reached this degree of love, resembles a sick manexceedingly wearied, whose appetite is gone, and to whom his foodis loathsome, and all things annoyance and trouble. Amidst allthings that present themselves to his thoughts, or feelings, orsight, his only wish and desire is health; and everything thatdoes not contribute thereto is weariness and oppressive. The soul,therefore, in pain because of its love of God, has threepeculiarities. Under all circumstances, and in all affairs, thethought of its health--that is, the Beloved--is ever present toit; and though it is obliged to attend to them because it cannothelp it, its heart is ever with Him. The second peculiarity,namely, a loss of pleasure in everything, arises from the first.The third also, a consequence of the second, is that all thingsbecome wearisome, and all affairs full of vexation and annoyance.
2. The reason is that the palate of the will having touched andtasted of the food of the love of God, the will instantly, underall circumstances, regardless of every other consideration, seeksthe fruition of the Beloved. It is with the soul now as it waswith Mary Magdalene, when in her burning love she sought Him inthe garden. She, thinking Him to be the gardener, spoke to Himwithout further reflection, saying: 'If thou hast taken Him hence,tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will take Him away.' (85)The soul is under the influence of a like anxiety to find Him inall things, and not finding Him immediately, as it desires--butrather the very reverse--not only has no pleasure in them, but iseven tormented by them, and sometimes exceedingly so: for suchsouls suffer greatly in their intercourse with men and in thetransactions of the world, because these things hinder rather thanhelp them in their search.
3. The bride in the Canticle shows us that she had these threepeculiarities when seeking the Bridegroom. 'I sought Him and foundHim not; the keepers that go about the city found me, they struckme and wounded me: the keepers of the walls took away my cloak.'(86) The keepers that go about the city are the affairs of thisworld, which, when they 'find' a soul seeking after God, inflictupon it much pain, and grief, and loathing; for the soul not onlydoes not find in them what it seeks, but rather a hindrance. Theywho keep the wall of contemplation, that the soul may not enter--that is, evil spirits and worldly affairs--take away the cloak ofpeace and the quiet of loving contemplation. All this inflictsinfinite vexation on the soul enamoured of God; and while itremains on earth without the vision of God, there is no relief,great or small, from these afflictions, and the soul thereforecontinues to complain to the Beloved, saying:
Quench Thou my troubles,
For no one else can soothe them;
And let mine eyes behold Thee,
For thou art their light,
And I will keep them for Thee alone.
1 HERE the soul continues to beseech the Beloved to put an end toits anxieties and distress--none other than He can do so--and thatin such a way that its eyes may behold Him; for He alone is thelight by which they see, and there is none other but He on whom itwill look.
'Quench Thou my troubles.'
2. The desire of love has this property, that everything said ordone which does not become that which the will loves, wearies andannoys it, and makes it peevish when it sees itself disappointedin its desires. This and its weary longing after the vision of Godis here called 'troubles.' These troubles nothing can removeexcept the possession of the Beloved; hence the soul prays Him toquench them with His presence, to cool their feverishness, as thecooling water him who is wearied by the heat. The soul makes useof the expression 'quench,' to denote its sufferings from the fireof love.
'For no one else can soothe them.'
3. The soul, in order to move and persuade the Beloved to grantits petition, says, 'As none other but Thou can satisfy my needs,do Thou quench my troubles.' Remember here that God is then closeat hand, to comfort the soul and to satisfy its wants, when it hasand seeks no satisfaction or comfort out of Him. The soul thatfinds no pleasure out of God cannot be long unvisited by theBeloved.
'And let mine eyes behold Thee.'
4. Let me see Thee face to face with the eyes of the soul,
'For thou art their light.'
5. God is the supernatural light of the soul, without which itabides in darkness. And now, in the excess of its affection, itcalls Him the light of its eyes, as an earthly lover, to expresshis affection, calls the object of his love the light of his eyes.The soul says in effect in the foregoing terms, 'Since my eyeshave no other light, either of nature or of love, but Thee, letthem behold Thee, Who in every way art their light.' David wasregretting this light when he said in his trouble, 'The light ofmine eyes, and the same is not with me;' (87) and Tobias, when hesaid, 'What manner of joy shall be to me who sit in darkness, andsee not the light of heaven?' (88) He was longing for the clearvision of God; for the light of heaven is the Son of God; as St.John saith in the Apocalypse: 'And the city needeth not sun, normoon to shine in it; for the glory of God hath illuminated it, andthe Lamb is the lamp thereof.' (89)
'And I will keep them for Thee alone.'
6. The soul seeks to constrain the Bridegroom to let it see thelight of its eyes, not only because it would be in darknesswithout it, but also because it will not look upon anything but onHim. For as that soul is justly deprived of this divine light ifit fixes the eyes of the will on any other light, proceeding fromanything that is not God, for then its vision is confined to thatobject; so also the soul, by a certain fitness, deserves thedivine light, if it shuts its eyes against all objects whatever,to open them only for the vision of God.
NOTE
BUT the loving Bridegroom of souls cannot bear to see them sufferlong in the isolation of which I am speaking, for, as He saith bythe mouth of Zacharias, 'He that shall touch you, toucheth theapple of Mine eye;' (90) especially when their sufferings, asthose of this soul, proceed from their love for Him. Thereforedoth He speak through Isaias, 'It shall be before they call, Iwill hear; as they are yet speaking, I will hear.' (91) And thewise man saith that the soul that seeketh Him as treasure shallfind Him. (92) God grants a certain spiritual presence of Himselfto the fervent prayers of the loving soul which seeks Him moreearnestly than treasure, seeing that it has abandoned all things,and even itself, for His sake.
2. In that presence He shows certain profound glimpses of Hisdivinity and beauty, whereby He still increases the soul's anxiousdesire to behold Him. For as men throw water on the coals of theforge to cause intenser heat, so our Lord in His dealings withcertain souls, in the intermission of their love, makes somerevelations of His majesty, to quicken their fervour, and toprepare them more and more for those graces which He will givethem afterwards. Thus the soul, in that obscure presence of God,beholding and feeling the supreme good and beauty hidden there, isdying in desire of the vision, saying in the stanza that follows:
STANZA XI
Reveal Thy presence,
And let the vision and Thy beauty kill me,
Behold the malady
Of love is incurable
Except in Thy presence and before Thy face.
1 THE soul, anxious to be possessed by God, Who is so great, Whoselove has wounded and stolen its heart, and unable to suffer more,beseeches Him directly, in this stanza, to reveal His beauty--thatis, the divine Essence--and to slay it in that vision, separatingit from the body, in which it can neither see nor possess Him asit desires. And further, setting before Him the distress andsorrow of heart, in which it continues, suffering it because ofits love, and unable to find any other remedy than the gloriousvision of the divine essence, cries out: 'Reveal Thy presence.'
2. To understand this clearly we must remember that there arethree ways in which God is present in the soul. The first is Hispresence in essence, not in holy souls only, but in wretched andsinful souls as well, and also in all created things; for it is bythis presence that He gives life and being, and were it oncewithdrawn all things would return to nothing. (93) This presencenever fails in the soul.
3. The second is His presence by grace, whereby He dwells in thesoul, pleased and satisfied with it. This presence is not in allsouls; for those who fall into mortal sin lose it, and no soul canknow in a natural way whether it has it or not. The third is Hispresence by spiritual affection. God is wont to show His presencein many devout souls in divers ways, in refreshment, joy, andgladness; yet this, like the others, is all secret, for He doesnot show Himself as He is, because the condition of our mortallife does not admit of it. Thus this prayer of the soul may beunderstood of any one of them.
'Reveal Thy presence.'
4. Inasmuch as it is certain that God is ever present in the soul,at least in the first way, the soul does not say, 'Be Thoupresent'; but, 'Reveal and manifest Thy hidden presence, whethernatural, spiritual, or affective, in such a way that I may beholdThee in Thy divine essence and beauty.' The soul prays Him that asHe by His essential presence gives it its natural being, andperfects it by His presence of grace, so also He would glorify itby the manifestation of His glory. But as the soul is now lovingGod with fervent affections, the presence, for the revelation ofwhich it prays the Beloved to manifest, is to be understoodchiefly of the affective presence of the Beloved. Such is thenature of this presence that the soul felt there was an infinitebeing hidden there, out of which God communicated to it certainobscure visions of His own divine beauty. Such was the effect ofthese visions that the soul longed and fainted away with thedesire of that which is hidden in that presence.
5. This is in harmony with the experience of David, when he said:'My soul longeth and fainteth for the courts of our Lord.' (94)The soul now faints with desire of being absorbed in theSovereign Good which it feels to be present and hidden; forthough it be hidden, the soul is most profoundly conscious of thegood and delight which are there. The soul is therefore attractedto this good with more violence than matter is to its centre, andis unable to contain itself, by reason of the force of thisattraction, from saying:
'Reveal Thy presence.'
6. Moses, on Mount Sinai in the presence of God, saw such glimpsesof the majesty and beauty of His hidden Divinity, that, unable toendure it, he prayed twice for the vision of His glory saying:'Whereas Thou hast said: I know thee by name, and thou hast foundgrace in my sight. If, therefore, I have found grace in Thy sight,shew me Thy face, that I may know Thee and may find grace beforeThine eyes;' (95) that is, the grace which he longed for--toattain to the perfect love of the glory of God. The answer of ourLord was: 'Thou canst not see My face, for man shall not see Meand live.' (96) It is as if God had said: 'Moses, thy prayer isdifficult to grant; the beauty of My face, and the joy in seeingMe is so great, as to be more than thy soul can bear in a mortalbody that is so weak.' The soul accordingly, conscious of thistruth, either because of the answer made to Moses or also becauseof that which I spoke of before, (97) namely, the feeling thatthere is something still in the presence of God here which itcould not see in its beauty in the life it is now living,because, as I said before, (98) it faints when it sees but aglimpse of it. Hence it comes that it anticipates the answerthat may be given to it, as it was to Moses, and says:
'Let the vision and Thy beauty kill me.'
7. That is, 'Since the vision of Thee and Thy beauty is so full ofdelight that I cannot endure, but must die in the act of beholdingthem, let the vision and Thy beauty kill me.'
8. Two visions are said to be fatal to man, because he cannot bearthem and live. One, that of the basilisk, at the sight of whichmen are said to die at once. The other is the vision of God; butthere is a great difference between them. The former kills bypoison, the other with infinite health and bliss. It is,therefore, nothing strange for the soul to desire to die bybeholding the beauty of God in order to enjoy Him for ever. If thesoul had but one single glimpse of the majesty and beauty of God,not only would it desire to die once in order to see Him for ever,as it desires now, but would most joyfully undergo a thousand mostbitter deaths to see Him even for a moment, and having seen Himwould suffer as many deaths again to see Him for another moment.
9. It is necessary to observe for the better explanation of thisline, that the soul is now speaking conditionally, when it praysthat the vision and beauty may slay it; it assumes that the visionmust be preceded by death, for if it were possible before death,the soul would not pray for death, because the desire of death isa natural imperfection. The soul, therefore, takes it for grantedthat this corruptible life cannot coexist with the incorruptiblelife of God, and says:
'Let the vision and Thy beauty kill me.'
10. St. Paul teaches this doctrine to the Corinthians when hesays: 'We would not be spoiled, but overclothed, that that whichis mortal may be swallowed up of life,' (99) That is, 'we wouldnot be divested of the flesh, but invested with glory.' Butreflecting that he could not live in glory and in a mortal bodyat the same time, he says to the Philippians: 'having a desire tobe dissolved and to be with Christ.' (100)
11. Here arises this question, Why did the people of Israel of olddread and avoid the vision of God, that they might not die, as itappears they did from the words of Manue to his wife, 'We shalldie because we have seen God,' (101) when the soul desires to dieof that vision? To this question two answers may be given.
12. In those days men could not see God, though dying in the stateof grace, because Christ had not come, It was therefore moreprofitable for them to live in the flesh, increasing in merit, andenjoying their natural life, than to be in Limbus, incapable ofmeriting, suffering in the darkness and in the spiritual absenceof God. They therefore considered it a great grace and blessing tolive long upon earth.
13. The second answer is founded on considerations drawn from thelove of God. They in those days, not being so confirmed in love,nor so near to God by love, were afraid of the vision: but, now,under the law of grace, when, on the death of the body, the soulmay behold God, it is more profitable to live but a short time,and then to die in order to see Him. And even if the vision werewithheld, the soul that really loves God will not be afraid to dieat the sight of Him; for true love accepts with perfectresignation, and in the same spirit, and even with joy, whatevercomes to it from the hands of the Beloved, whether prosperity oradversity--yea, and even chastisements such as He shall be pleasedto send, for, as St. John saith, 'perfect charity casteth outfear.' (102)
14. Thus, then, there is no bitterness in death to the soul thatloves, when it brings with it all the sweetness and delights oflove; there is no sadness in the remembrance of it when it opensthe door to all joy; nor can it be painful and oppressive, when itis the end of all unhappiness and sorrow, and the beginning of allgood. Yea, the soul looks upon it as a friend and its bride, andexults in the recollection of it as the day of espousals; ityearns for the day and hour of death more than the kings of theearth for principalities and kingdoms.
15. It was of this kind of death that the wise man said, 'O death,thy judgment is good to the needy man.' (103) If it be good to theneedy man, though it does not supply his wants, but on thecontrary deprives him even of what he hath, how much more goodwill it be to the soul in need of love and which is crying formore, when it will not only not rob it of the love it hathalready, but will be the occasion of that fulness of love which ityearns for, and is the supply of all its necessities. It is notwithout reason, then, that the soul ventures to say:
'Let the vision and Thy beauty kill me.'
16. The soul knows well that in the instant of that vision it willbe itself absorbed and transformed into that beauty, and be madebeautiful like it, enriched, and abounding in beauty as thatbeauty itself. This is why David said, 'Precious in the sight ofthe Lord is the death of His saints,' (104) but that could not beif they did not become partakers of His glory, for there isnothing precious in the eyes of God except that which He isHimself, and therefore, the soul, when it loves, fears not death,but rather desires it. But the sinner is always afraid to die,because he suspects that death will deprive him of all good, andinflict upon him all evil; for in the words of David, 'the deathof the wicked is very evil,' (105) and therefore, as the wise mansaith, the very thought of it is bitter: 'O death, how bitter isthy memory to a man that hath peace in his riches!' (106) Thewicked love this life greatly, and the next but little, and aretherefore afraid of death; but the soul that loves God lives morein the next life than in this, because it lives rather where itloves than where it dwells, and therefore esteeming but lightlyits present bodily life, cries out: 'Let the vision and Thy beautykill me.'
'Behold, the malady of love is incurable,
except in Thy presence and before Thy face.'
17. The reason why the malady of love admits of no other remedythan the presence and countenance of the Beloved is, that themalady of love differs from every other sickness, and thereforerequires a different remedy. In other diseases, according to soundphilosophy, contraries are cured by contraries; but love is notcured but by that which is in harmony with itself. The reason isthat the health of the soul consists in the love of God; and sowhen that love is not perfect, its health is not perfect, and thesoul is therefore sick, for sickness is nothing else but a failureof health. Thus, that soul which loves not at all is dead; butwhen it loves a little, how little soever that may be, it is thenalive, though exceedingly weak and sick because it loves God solittle. But the more its love increases, the greater will be itshealth, and when its love is perfect, then, too, its health alsois perfect. Love is not perfect until the lovers become so on anequality as to be mutually transformed into one another; then loveis wholly perfect.
18. And because the soul is now conscious of a certain adumbrationof love, which is the malady of which it here speaks, yearning tobe made like to Him of whom it is a shadow, that is theBridegroom, the Word, the Son of God, Who, as St. Paul saith, isthe 'splendour of His glory, and the figure of His substance;'(107) and because it is into this figure it desires to betransformed by love, cries out, 'Behold, the malady of love isincurable except in Thy presence, and in the light of ThyCountenance.' The love that is imperfect is rightly called amalady, because as a sick man is enfeebled and cannot work, so thesoul that is weak in love is also enfeebled and cannot practiseheroic virtue.
19. Another explanation of these words is this: he who feels thismalady of love--that is, a failure of it--has an evidence inhimself that he has some love, because he ascertains what isdeficient in him by that which he possesses. But he who is notconscious of this malady has evidence therein that he has no loveat all, or that he has already attained to perfect love.
NOTE
THE soul now conscious of a vehement longing after God, like astone rushing to its centre, and like wax which has begun toreceive the impression of the seal which it cannot perfectlyrepresent, and knowing, moreover, that it is like a picturelightly sketched, crying for the artist to finish his work, andhaving its faith so clear as to trace most distinctly certaindivine glimpses of the majesty of God, knows not what else to dobut to turn inward to that faith--as involving and veiling theface and beauty of the Beloved--from which it hath received thoseimpressions and pledges of love, and which it thus addresses:
O crystal well!
O that on Thy silvered surface
Thou wouldest mirror forth at once
Those desired eyes
Which are outlined in my heart.
1 THE soul vehemently desiring to be united to the Bridegroom, andseeing that there is no help or succour in created things, turnstowards the faith, as to that which gives it the most vivid visionof the Beloved, and adopts it as the means to that end. And,indeed, there is no other way of attaining to true union, to thespiritual betrothal of God, according to the words of Osee: 'Iwill betrothe thee to Me in faith.' (108) In this fervent desireit cries out in the words of this stanza, which are in effectthis: 'O faith of Christ, my Bridegroom! Oh that thou wouldestmanifest clearly those truths concerning the Beloved, secretly andobscurely infused--for faith is, as theologians say, an obscurehabit--so that thy informal and obscure communications may be in amoment clear; Oh that thou wouldest withdraw thyself formally andcompletely from these truths--for faith is a veil over the truthsof God--and reveal them perfectly in glory.' Accordingly it says:
'O crystal well!'
2. Faith is called crystal for two reasons: because it is ofChrist the Bridegroom; because it has the property of crystal,pure in its truths, a limpid well clear of error, and of naturalforms. It is a well because the waters of all spiritual goodnessflow from it into the soul. Christ our Lord, speaking to the womanof Samaria, calls faith a well, saying, 'The water that I willgive him shall become in him a well of water springing up intolife everlasting.' (109) This water is the Spirit which they whobelieve shall receive by faith in Him. ÔNow this He said of theSpirit which they who believed in Him should receive.' (110)
'Oh that on thy silvered surface.'
3. The articles and definitions of the faith are called silveredsurfaces. In order to understand these words and those thatfollow, we must know that faith is compared to silver because ofthe propositions it teaches us, the truth and substance itinvolves being compared to gold. This very substance which we nowbelieve, hidden behind the silver veil of faith, we shall clearlybehold and enjoy hereafter; the gold of faith shall be mademanifest. Hence the Psalmist, speaking of this, saith: ÔIf ye sleepamidst the lots, the wings of the dove are laid over with silver,and the hinder parts of the back in the paleness of gold.' (111)That means if we shall keep the eyes of the understanding fromregarding the things of heaven and of earth--this the Psalmistcalls sleeping in the midst--we shall be firm in the faith, herecalled dove, the wings of which are the truths laid over withsilver, because in this life the faith puts these truths before usobscurely beneath a veil. This is the reason why the soul callsthem silvered surface. But when faith shall have been consummatedin the clear vision of God, then the substance of faith, thesilver veil removed, will shine as gold.
4. As the faith gives and communicates to us God Himself, buthidden beneath the silver of faith, yet it reveals Him none theless. So if a man gives us a vessel made of gold, but covered withsilver, he gives us in reality a vessel of gold, though the goldbe covered over. Thus, when the bride in the Canticle was longingfor the fruition of God, He promised it to her so far as the stateof this life admitted of it, saying: 'We will make thee chains ofgold inlaid with silver.' (112) He thus promised to give Himselfto her under the veil of faith. Hence the soul addresses thefaith, saying: 'Oh that on thy silvered surface'--the definitionsof faith--'in which thou hidest' the gold of the divine rays--which are the desired eyes,--instantly adding:
'Thou wouldest mirror forth at once those desired eyes!'
5. By the eyes are understood, as I have said, the rays and truthsof God, which are set before us hidden and informal in thedefinitions of the faith. Thus the words say in substance: 'Ohthat thou wouldest formally and explicitly reveal to me thosehidden truths which Thou teachest implicitly and obscurely in thedefinitions of the faith; according to my earnest desire.' Thosetruths are called eyes, because of the special presence of theBeloved, of which the soul is conscious, believing Him to beperpetually regarding it; and so it says:
'Which are outlined in my heart.'
6. The soul here says that these truths are outlined in the heart--that is, in the understanding and the will. It is through theunderstanding that these truths are infused into the soul byfaith. They are said to be outlined because the knowledge of themis not perfect. As a sketch is not a perfect picture, so theknowledge that comes by faith is not a perfect understanding. Thetruths, therefore, infused into the soul by faith are as it werein outline, and when the clear vision shall be granted, then theywill be as a perfect and finished picture, according to the wordsof the Apostle: 'When that shall come which is perfect, that shallbe made void which is in part.' (113) 'That which is perfect' isthe clear vision, and 'that which is in part' is the knowledgethat comes by faith.
7. Besides this outline which comes by faith, there is another bylove in the soul that loves--that is, in the will--in which theface of the Beloved is so deeply and vividly pictured, when theunion of love occurs, that it may be truly said the Beloved livesin the loving soul, and the loving soul in the Beloved. Loveproduces such a resemblance by the transformation of those wholove that one may be said to be the other, and both but one. Thereason is, that in the union and transformation of love one giveshimself up to the other as his possession, and each resigns,abandons, and exchanges himself for the other, and both become butone in the transformation wrought by love.
8. This is the meaning of St. Paul when he said, 'I live, now, notI, but Christ liveth in me.' (114) In that He saith, 'I live, now,not I,' his meaning is, that though he lived, yet the life helived was not his own, because he was transformed in Christ: thathis life was divine rather than human; and for that reason, hesaid it was not he that lived, but Christ Who lived in him. We maytherefore say, according to this likeness of transformation, thathis life and the life of Christ were one by the union of love.This will be perfect in heaven in the divine life of all those whoshall merit the beatific vision; for, transformed in God, theywill live the life of God and not their own, since the life of Godwill be theirs. Then they will say in truth. 'We live, but notwe ourselves, for God liveth in us.'
9. Now, this may take place in this life, as in the case of St.Paul, but not perfectly and completely, though the soul shouldattain to such a transformation of love as shall be spiritualmarriage, which is the highest state it can reach in this life;because all this is but an outline of love compared with theperfect image of transformation in glory. Yet, when this outlineof transformation is attained in this life, it is a grandblessing, because the Beloved is so greatly pleased therewith. Hedesires, therefore, that the bride should have Him thus delineatedin her soul, and saith unto her, 'Put Me as a seal upon thy heart,as a seal upon thy arm.' (115) The heart here signifies the soul,wherein God in this life dwells as an impression of the seal offaith, and the arm is the resolute will, where He is as theimpressed token of love.
10. Such is the state of the soul at that time. I speak butlittle of it, not willing to leave it altogether untouched, thoughno language can describe it.
11. The very substance of soul and body seems to be dried up bythirst after this living well of God, for the thirst resemblesthat of David when he cried out, 'As the hart longeth for thefountains of waters, so my soul longeth for Thee, O God. My soulhath thirsted after the strong living God; when shall I come andappear before the face of God?' (116) So oppressive is this thirstto the soul, that it counts it as nothing to break through thecamp of the Philistines, like the valiant men of David, to fillits pitcher with 'water out of the cisterns of Bethlehem,' (117)which is Christ. The trials of this world, the rage of the devil,and the pains of hell are nothing to pass through, in order toplunge into this fathomless fountain of love.
12. To this we may apply those words in the Canticle: 'Love isstrong as death, jealousy is hard as hell.' (118) It is incrediblehow vehement are the longings and sufferings of the soul when itsees itself on the point of testing this good, and at the sametime sees it withheld; for the nearer the object desired, thegreater the pangs of its denial: 'Before I eat,' saith Job, 'Isigh, and as it were overflowing waters so my roaring' (119) andhunger for food. God is meant here by food; for in proportion tothe soul's longing for food, and its knowledge of God, is the painit suffers now.
NOTE
THE source of the grievous sufferings of the soul at this time isthe consciousness of its own emptiness of God--while it is drawingnearer and nearer to Him--and also, the thick darkness with thespiritual fire, which dry and purify it, that, its purificationended, it may be united with God. For when God sends not forth aray of supernatural light into the soul, He is to it intolerabledarkness when He is even near to it in spirit, for thesupernatural light by its very brightness obscures the merenatural light. David referred to this when he said: 'Cloud andmist round about Him . . . a fire shall go before Him.' (120) Andagain: 'He put darkness His covert; His tabernacle is round aboutHim, darksome waters in the clouds of the air. Because of thebrightness in His sight the clouds passed, hail and coals offire.' (121) The soul that approaches God feels Him to be all thismore and more the further it advances, until He shall cause it toenter within His divine brightness through the transformation oflove. But the comfort and consolations of God are, by His infinitegoodness, proportional to the darkness and emptiness of the soul,as it is written, 'As the darkness thereof, so also the lightthereof.' (122) And because He humbles souls and wearies them,while He is exalting them and making them glorious, He sends intothe soul, in the midst of its weariness, certain divine rays fromHimself, in such gloriousness and strength of love as to stir itup from its very depths, and to change its whole naturalcondition. Thus, the soul, in great fear and natural awe,addresses the Beloved in the first words of the following stanza,the remainder of which is His answer:
John, Spiritual Canticle 8